


Can you see me?

by Ann_Ominous



Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Kai, Dragon Ball Z, Manga - Fandom, anime - Fandom
Genre: AU, Asshole Vegeta, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Body Positivity, Body Worship, Crack Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Funny, Ghosts, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Parody, Rich Vegeta, Romance, Silly, Smut, Vegebul, bullshit, romantic, scared bulma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8507479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann_Ominous/pseuds/Ann_Ominous
Summary: Bulma Briefs has always been able to see ghosts. She'd gotten used to it, and  settled into as normal a life as she could. One day that all changes when she see's the lost and confused spirit of famous action movie star, Vegeta on the street. Next thing she knows, the pampered Hollywood elite is following her around and throwing snarky quips at her all day long.





	1. Could you not?

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Musicofthespheres for editing this fic for me! She's the best. You should all go read her fic, Black Coffee for your Vegebul AU needs.

Bulma was seriously considering moving out of this city. Too many ghosts. It wasn’t their fault, mind you. She didn’t blame them. Victory City was just so old that many people had died here, and they tended to stay near where they passed. 

  
She pushed through the crowd, her hood up, sunglasses on as usual. The sunglasses were especially useful in hiding her eyes if she looked directly at one of them, and the living tended to get twitchy if they saw you staring at air.  She shifted her thick, knit scarf over her nose and continued on towards home. It was beginning to snow, and she didn’t want to be stuck in the storm.    
  
Bulma had a lot of work to do when she got home. She tried not to let herself think too much about the calculations she was doing because if she did, she’d get distracted and trip over someone again. 

 

“Hey, Don’t you ignore me! HEY!” A very loud, vaguely familiar voice made her jump and look towards the person screaming at the top of his lungs. He was dead, and demanding people notice him. She’d seen plenty of people’s fresh souls before, but never had she seen a celebrity. She found herself staring at the famous action movie star, Vegeta.     
  
“Can you see me!?” He shouted hopefully at one woman who paused to look through him at a passing bus. She swore and chased after it.     
  
Not being a big movie buff, she didn’t know much about him. She just recognized his face from few movies she’d seen and the occasional movie poster. He was in nearly every action movie that came out in the last five years.    
  
She realized she was staring at him as he frantically grabbed at people who passed. It was so cold that she doubted they would even have notice the chill caused by his touch.    
  
He was so frantic, so angry and frightened that he was actually managing to ruffle people’s clothes. She was definitely not equipped to handle a spirit as strong as he seemed to be. She wasn’t like some of the proper psychics. She couldn't put up shields or barriers to protect herself.  She relied on them not knowing she could see them, thus the sunglasses in the snow.    
  
But she’d been staring too long, and he’d noticed her in the crowd. Without moving her head, she pulled her phone out and held it up just high enough, so that when the man between them moved, it would look like she was just staring at her phone since he couldn’t see where her eyes were pointed. 

It didn’t work, and he moved through crowd, trying to avoid running into someone seemingly out of habit, and instead going through them. They shivered and stopped in their racks to re-adjust their coat.    
  
Bulma turned and walked away before he could get to her. She walked as fast as she could without running. If only she could get home, she’d be safe. She’d fortified her little one-room against ghosts and they couldn’t enter there.  She was just about to start down the stairs to the subway when a cold hand grabbed her shoulder.    
  
“AHA!” He yelled triumphantly from behind her and jerked her a few steps back. “YOU CAN HEAR ME!” He yelled.    
“Yes, so SHUT UP.” She snapped, and jerked her shoulder out of his hand. He stared in outrage at her tone.    
“What the hell is going on here?” He demanded. “This isn’t right. Why isn’t anyone else looking at me, I usually can’t even walk three feet out my door without-”    
“You’re dead. You died. I’m very sorry for you. Good bye.” She hissed, hoping the scarf had hidden her lips enough to prevent the many people moving through the crowded street from hearing her.   
  
She used his moment of his shock to turn and flee down the stairs to the subway. She didn’t have the abilities to help the dead like some psychics. She could only see them, and that just made her vulnerable to them. So she ran. Thankfully this was the one place she could run without looking insane. People would just assume she was running to catch a train. 

 

But he was faster.    
“WAIT!” He shouted. He didn’t need to touch ground to move, so he caught up to her in no time. He grabbed her shoulder to stop her, and pulled her back. She slipped on the icy steps, and hit the stairs with a painful thud that knocked away her hood to reveal short, pale blue hair.  He stood there, waiting for her to get up.    
  
“Are you alright?” A tall woman with short blond hair moved forward to help Bulma up. She frowned thoughtfully at her when she got close, and looked a little surprised at her. Vegeta raised a brow. Was she famous too? He’d never bothered to keep up with people who weren’t likely to work with him in one way or another. That woman clearly couldn’t see him, Vegeta if she was looking at Bulma.   
  
“Yeah-” She waved away the woman’s hand, and got up, rubbing her butt and back when she’d landed. “Thanks, anyway.” She noted the woman frowning at her face, and pulled her hood and scarf up. “Sorry.”    
  
“Oh! It’s fine. I’m sorry for- Well, have a nice day.” She turned and left, leaving Bulma to stand there and wait for the initial throbbing in her backside to stop before continuing down the stairs.    
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you okay.” Bulma said when she got down to the noisy platform.    
“You can see me.” Vegeta argued. “You said I was dead, and I can’t be dead.”    
“Well, you are.” Bulma said cooly. “Sorry.”    
“Well I’m telling you I’m not.” He said defiantly.    
“Okay, well if you’re not dead, then you don’t need me. Bye.” She swiped her subway pass and waited for her train while trying very hard to ignore him.   
“I’m going to follow you until you help me.”  He declared, and stood behind her, so close that she was chilled by his presence. She took a pointed step away from him, but he followed, his chest pressing against her back.    
  
“God, you’re such a jackass.” She muttered.     
“And you’re a selfish cunt.” He snapped. She rolled her eyes and got on her train when it arrived a few moments later. It wasn’t a terribly long ride, but it was annoying with him pressing against her back like that.    
  
She wasn’t used to this much contact with other people, alive or dead, and he seemed to know it because he was smirking at her.    
“Boy this sure is awkward. Sure wish I had some help.” He said loudly, making her flinch. When the train stopped, she ran off, and looked at her watch frequently to make people think she was late. She only lived a few blocks from the subway station, so she didn’t have far to go. She was excited to get home, to be warm, and to be alone.    
  
“You know it’s not hard to keep up with you, right?” He asked as she rushed up to the elevators. She didn’t answer. The lobby was too quiet, and too empty for her to get away with it. The few other people in the area would surely notice, and since she lived here, she didn’t need these people thinking she was nuts. 

 

When the elevator door opened it was blessedly empty, and she was able to ride up to her apartment on the 27th floor, without anyone alive around to judge her. Vegeta followed her, as she’d expected him too.    
  
He was so freshly dead, that he had no idea how physics worked for him. She pressed the button for her floor, and smirked at him.    
“Bye!” She waved, just before the elevator smoothly rose into the air, leaving Vegeta where he float by the first floor. She nearly laughed at his outraged face when he looked up at as the floor rose steadily to engulf his face.   
  
She could still hear him yelling from below as she got further and further away. She laughed, unable to help herself now. When the elevator let her off, she rushed towards her apartment. It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out how to move vertically.    
  
When she was safely inside her apartment, she sagged against the door, and waited for her heart to stop racing. It wasn’t every day she came across a ghost as strong as he was. She’d never met one could so easily just grab her like that. 

 

But she was home now, and he couldn’t get her in here. She looked around the space, and felt safe and content. To the left of the front door was a kitchen that was far too small. It was more of a kitchenette with a fridge, a oven with a stovetop, a sink, and one square foot of counter space.  

 

To the right of the front door was the coat closet that she used as a pantry, the bathroom, and then the main closet of the house. These three doors were painfully close together. The kitchen was open to the rest of her apartment. The back wall held two large bay windows on either side of the gas fireplace, which was the reason she’d bought this apartment to begin with. On the left wall, she’d put her work station, which was comprised of two long narrow tables under which were cubbies to hold all her spare computer parts. On top, she had three monitors, side to side, and curved in a semi circle so she would see them easily.

 

On the right wall was her murphy bed, cleverly hidden behind a long sofa. There was no TV,  since she could just use her computer or tablet instead . It wasn’t much, but it was comfortable. There was a soft leather computer chair, the fireplace, the plush microfiber blankets draped over the sofa, and the soft faux-fur rug in front of the fireplace.  More than a few times in the cold winter she’d find herself sitting on that rug in front of the fireplace while she poked around on her tablet.    
  
The more critical element to her comfort and safety however didn’t stem from her soft sofa, comfortable bed or fancy work chair. It came from the long strip of duct tape running along the perimeter of the apartment, closet, bathroom, everything. Under the strip of tape was a thick line of salt. It even covered the bay windows.    
  
Bulma had even bought colored duct tape so it wouldn’t be as noticeable on the hardwood floors. She knew it would be a pain to clean up when she moved, and it might even forever damage the hardwood flooring, but she didn’t care. Her privacy and safety were well worth the cost.    
  
Bulma shed her outer layers and made a cup of hot chocolate. She felt a deep chill and desperately wanted to warm herself. She sat in front of the fire on a pillow, tablet in her lap. She was just starting to relax when a loud shout made her jump.    
  
“WOMAN!! YOU THINK YOU CAN HIDE FROM ME!?!?!” Vegeta roared at her from outside her window.  He held his fist back and punched at the window- and for a second she thought it would shatter. But then his fist flew a millimeter through the glass and slammed without a sound on the barrier made by the ring of salt.    
  
Fuck, she thought. She’d forgotten to close the blinds. She stood up - annoyed but not afraid - and rested one knee on seat of the bay window to reach for the blinds.    
  
“I KNEW YOU HAD TO LIVE HERE!! IT WAS THE ONLY APARTMENT I COULDN’T ENTER!! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!? WOMAN!!! DON’T YOU SHUT ME O-” Bulma jerked the blind closed in front of his face.    
  
“WOMAN!!” He kept shouting. “WOMAN LET ME IN!” He bellowed. She resolved not to, and closed the blinds on the other window. “WOMAN!!!” He kept yelling. She’d never seen a ghost act like this. Usually once they realized they couldn’t follow her into her apartment, they would give up.    
  
But not him. He kept making as much noise as possible, and the salt barrier did nothing to shield her from his voice. 

“Go find another psychic!” She yelled back. “There are stronger ones than me out there who can actually help you!!”    
“WHERE!?” He bellowed. His voice moving along the perimeter of her flat as he circled it.    
“I don’t know, man! Just fly around and look for someone- AH!” She screamed and jumped nearly a foot in the air. Vegeta had found a spot where the tape was about one inch from the wall, and was pressing his face against through the wall, against the barrier. All she could see was his floating face. But he could see her.      
  
“GOD DAMN IT COULD YOU NOT!!?” She shouted, and stamped her foot. “Just leave me be!” She half begged.   
  
“NO! HELP ME, YOU SELFISH CUNT!!!” He barked. His face looking fairly stupid smooshed against the invisible wall like that.    
  
Well, she thought. She would just have to ignore him. She settled back down on her pillow, put her sound canceling headphones on, and began listening to Daft Punk. For the next four hours she was able to tune him out and just listen to music while she read a good book on her tablet.    
  
When she looked up after having finished the book, she didn’t see him right away. She took her headphones off and it was quiet. Blessedly quiet. She sat there, headphones in her hands for a tense minute, looking around and waiting for him to poke out again.    
  
Nothing. She got up, and tiptoed to the bathroom incase he was sitting outside and listening for her. He didn’t bother her, even after flushing and washing her hands. She looked through her kitchen for something to eat, but nothing sounded good, so she ordered Thai food. She figured this way she wouldn’t have to leave her apartment.   
  
She did a little work while she waited, since it was quiet now and before she knew it, there was a knock on the door. She cracked the door to peer at the knocker. It was just the delivery girl, the same she always got because she requested her by name. “Hi! Just a moment!” She unchained the door, and pushed it open to pay and get her food.    
  
But no sooner had she let go of the door a hand shot through it to grab at her. She jerked her hand away, inside the barrier just in time. Vegeta slammed against it, going right through the delivery girl and the food. Bulma started a bit, and stepped back over the line of salt.    
  
“It’ll be 26.50.” The delivery girl said.    
  
“Sure, come on. Let me get my wallet.” Bulma moved over to her coat and faked getting her wallet while the girl stepped into the threshold, and over the tape.  When she was out of reach of Vegeta, Bulma paid for and accepted the food. While she set it on the counter, the delivery girl said goodbye and left.    
  
“Oh hey can you close the door on your way out?” She called, but it was too late. The delivery girl had gone, and now Bulma was in a bind. In order to reach to door, she’d have to reach over the tape, and Vegeta would be able to grab her.    
  
“What are you going to do now, woman?” He asked smugly.    
  
“Write an angry letter to my landlord, and tell him how stupid these doors are. I’ve never lived someplace with doors that swung out, but these apartments are so small they had to do it the weird way.” She looked around her flat for something, anything to help her out of this situation.    
  
“Are you Christian?” She asked Vegeta.    
  
“What? No.” he scoffed. She pulled open the kitchen drawer nearest the door and looked inside. “Some big guy in the sky who looks after us?” He snorted.    
  
“So you’re atheist?” She asked. He nodded and shrugged. “Though I guess now I should reconsider… Why, is that the answer? Do I have to pray or something?”  He looked skeptical.    
  
“No, it just means these won’t help.” She shut the drawer, which held several sacred symbols from all the religions she knew of.    
  
“Why not?” He asked.    
  
“Because if you didn’t put any value in the holy symbol while alive, it won’t repel you now.” She explained.    
  
“Oh so you’re still trying to get rid of me? Won’t happen.” He crossed his arms and looked pleased with himself.    
  
Bulma looked down at the drawer again. Was he too determined for a sage burning to work? She worried her lower lip for a moment and looked back over at him.    
“Just what do you want me to do?” She asked.    
  
“I want you to help me.”    
  
“How?”That shut him up.    
  
“I don’t know. I’m just- alone. I don’t know what to do.” The arrogance melted off his face for a moment, and she felt a pang of pity for him. Maybe she was being selfish.    
  
“I don’t know how to help you, and the only other psychic I know moved to the boonies four years ago. You have to just- find peace with your death, you know? Relax, and accept it, and you’ll move on.”    
  
“But I’m not dead.” He said, firmly.    
  
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re a ghost. You must be dead.” She picked up her tablet, opened Google and did a search for his name.  “You’re famous, so if your death will be on the internet somewhere.” She looked over the results.    
  
The very first one read “Tragic accident leaves action star, Vegeta in a coma!” from only a few hours ago.  She opened the article and continued reading.    
  
“It says there was some kind a problem with your safety harness on set, and you fell two stories and…” She looked up at him. “And that you’re in a medically induced coma.”    
  
“HA! I TOLD YOU!” He shouted so suddenly she jumped.    
  
“WOULD YOU STOP THAT!” She shouted back, but his smug smirk was back, and firmly in place.    
  
“I told you I was alive. I could feel it. My body. I knew it.” He grinned, pleased with himself.    
“Well you could have said that rather than just stubbornly insisting you weren’t dead. It would explain why you look so… solid, I guess. I’ve never met a ghost in a coma before.” She admitted. “Though I’ve heard of it, from older, better psychics.” She put her tablet down and looked him over.    
“You should go to your body, and see if entering it again wakes you up.”    
  


“You think that would work?” He asked, looking mildly surprised.    
“Yeah, of course!” She said enthusiastically. “Can you feel where your body is?”    
“Kind of. I think it’s… sort of over here…” He drifted around her flat- and in the moment he was out of reach, she rushed forward and grabbed the door to slam it closed. She was just feeling victorious when he grabbed her hand and jerked her out of her apartment and slammed her up against the hallway wall.    
  
“OW!” She shouted when her head bounced off the drywall.    
  
“You really thought I’d fall for that?!” He looked insulted.    
“Well, I don’t hold much regard for the intelligence of an actor.” She said cooly.    
“Christ, woman. Why are you so salty? What did I ever do to you?”  He grabbed her upper arms and squeezed.    
  
“You attacked me on the street and now you won’t let me go.” She tried to wriggle free, but his grip didn’t waver.    
  
“You should be nicer to me, now.” He threatened. “I wonder if I can-” He flew up a foot or so, and lifted her with him, her back still pressed against the wall. She winced, being lifted like this was fairly painful.  “Wouldn’t it be a shame if you were to fall from a high place, like the top of this building?” He threatened.    
  
“Look, I know you’re freaked out- but you aren’t going to kill me.” Bulma said confidently. “You would never kill someone if you were alive, but when you’re a spirit like this emotions can run high. You’re afraid, and that’s-”   
  
“I”M NOT AFRAID.” He bellowed, right in her face. She jerked her head back and it hit the dry wall again.  She winced and groaned. 

  
“You’ll be okay. The article said they put you in a medically induced coma so you wouldn’t move and make the injuries worse. You’ll live, you’ll be okay. Do you understand?” She wriggled and looked down. “Can you please set me down?” She asked, and kicked her feet to emphasize the request.

 

He looked down and what he was doing seemed to hit him. He set her down, and let her go. Her upper arms ached.    
“So now you’re just going to leave me to wander around alone for god knows how long?” He crossed his arms again.    
“Look, At this point, I’d let you into my flat but if I did I would also be letting everything else in.”    
“Every.. THING?” He raised a brow at her.    
“Yeah, like super old ghosts so powerful they’re basically demons.” She looked towards her apartment, wanting to be alone and warm again, and feeling guilty for leaving him.    
“I could… let you in, but then put the salt back? You’d be trapped though, and I don’t know what would happen to you if your spirit was trapped in the apartment when they tried pulling you out of the coma.” She crossed her arms, because she was cold, and because she was feeling defensive. 

  
“Well- what do I do? Am I supposed to just- float around for days or weeks!?” He scowled.

“What else is there? You can fly around like this, and go spy on people and stuff. That could be fun, right?” She shrugged.    
  
“Hey… I could.” He thought about it, and grinned. “Okay, yeah. I’ll do that.” He stood aside and let her re-enter her apartment. “If you need me, I will be right inside, I just need to be alone, and do my work,”    
  
“What do you do for a living?” He asked. The question was so normal that she needed a minute to think.    
  
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She paused by the door. “I’ll open the window, and maybe even move the tape so you can sit on the bay window. Would that be okay?” She turned to face him. He nodded. 

“Yeah fine.” He floated around the apartment, and waited. 

 

She laid down a strip of tape around the bay window, at the very edge that connected to the line around the rest of the apartment. This took a few minutes because she had to make sure the line of salt wasn’t broken, even a little, for even a second. When she was done, she made a small tear in the existing line around the window. She only needed to break the line a little to grant him entry. 

  
And, as if he were leaning on the barrier, he dropped in as soon as the line of salt was broken.  She barely had time to look up let alone move, and he landed right on top of her.    
  
“Ow. Could you _not_?” She shoved him off roughly, and climbed down out of the window so he could sit comfortably.    
  
“Sorry, I just doubted you’d actually do it, you _salty_ whore.” He grumbled.    
  
“I’m not a whore. Salty… sure. But at least I’m not an arrogant douche nozzle.” For some reason, that made him smile.  “Weirdo.” She rolled her eyes and took a seat at her desk to get to work.    
  
“I’m bored.” He declared after a few minutes of silence.    
  
“Go spy on the neighbors.”    
  
“I’m not a pervert. I don’t need to spy to see naked women. They _flock_ to me.”    
  
“Mhm.” She said disinterestedly and turned to her work.   
  
“You don’t even have a TV.”    
  
“I have books you can read.” She suggested.    
  
“Can I even touch a book enough to turn the pages?” He wondered and looked around. He began experimenting by lifting one of the throw pillows she’d left on the bay-window. That kept him busy for a good two hours. At the end of it, he was only able to dent it with a strong punch.    
  
Since he’d been so quiet, she caved in and got up unroll the projection screen, and turn on netflix for him. He ended up watching a few action movies while she worked with her headphones on.    
  
She lost track of time, and before she knew it it was well past three in the morning. She leaned back in her chair and stretched like a cat, arching her back and stifling a little squeak. “I’m going to bed. Can you leave while I’m asleep?” She asked, and looked over him.    
  
“Sure. You’re boring anyway.” He sat up and rolled off the window and out of sight without even a goodbye. 


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma has a secret that everyone can see, except Vegeta. Will he find out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another special thanks to musicofthespheres for editing this chapter.

CHAPTER TWO

Grey sunlight trickled in through the closed blinds like a slow creek, landing on Bulma’s face and upper body, stirring her from her sleep. She was warm, and comfortable under her fluffy duvet as she stretched out on her back. She had no reason to get up now, other than the discomfort and stiffness that came from lying still so long. 

  
She could sleep another few hours though, if she wanted. She didn’t need to leave the house today. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling for a few, drowsy moments.    
“Morning.” Vegeta said, from his spot on the bay-window.    
  
She was too tired to even yell at him, so she glared in his general direction as she sat up and rubbed the back of her neck.    
  
Vegeta looked pointedly at her while she rolled out of bed, her pj’s little more than a pair of underwear and a tank top. She went to the bathroom, and shuffled out to make herself a cup of coffee. She had a little keurig, because she liked the easiness of just putting a little plastic cup in, and pressing a button.    
  
Five minutes later, she was feeling more awake. Awake enough to tell him off. “You should ask before you come in. I’m not dressed properly.”    
  
“You don’t seem to mind.” He grinned, eyes moving up and down her body in a way she was wholly unfamiliar with.  She shivered and stepped into the closet to put on some sweatpants, and a bra. He was still grinning at her when she stepped out.    
  
She folded her bed away, latching it so it wouldn’t fall on her throughout the day, and began doing her morning stretches on the soft faux fur rug on the ground near the fire. It was chilly in here outside of the warmth of her bed.    
  
He watched her stretch, looking a little bored.   
“You know, you’re favoring your left side.” He interjected.    
  
“Oh? Am I?” she laughed. “You’re an expert on stretching?”  She teased back.    
  
“Well yeah. I’ve got a black belt in six different martial arts, a gold belt in boxing, and a Master’s degree in physical education, and a couple years of professional stunt training.” He was clearly offended by her statement.    
  
“Really? So you actually do all your own stunts? It’s not a publicity thing?” She was mildly impressed and forgot to do her stretching for a moment.    
  
“Why do you think I’m in so many movies? My amazing acting talent?” The joke was so unexpected that she couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t going to tell him he was a bad actor, but he was. 

  
“I wasn’t going to say it, but you have had an awful lot of roles that don’t have any lines. How many speaking parts did you have in your last movie?”

  
“Four.” He chuckled. “Whatever, I act with my body.” He flexed his arm, and looked down at the muscle fondly. He did have big arms, she noted.    
  
She counted to thirty, and then stretched her other side, then finished by doing the vertical splits, and then the horizontal. She was very flexible from her years of doing this every morning since she was 10.    
  
“Impressive, but you’re still stretching your right side more than your left.” He repeated.    
  
“Oh well.” She shrugged and eased out of the splits, and climbed to her feet to do pull ups on the closet door frame for a few minutes. She was determined not to let him know his gaze was bothering her. She could only do twenty, but that was more than most people she knew. She did her squats and the rest of her work out next.   
  
He watched the whole time, and she found herself doing the work out a little more properly than she usually did. She really lowered into her squats and lifted her knees in the kicks rather than half assing it like she usually did. She tried very hard to act like his eyes didn’t feel like weights in front of her.   
  


“Have you thought of modeling?” He asked as she toweled off her sweaty head.   
  
“Oh, fuck you.” She shook her head and flipped him off.    
  
“I’m not flirting with you, but really you’ve got the look.”  He gestured to her. “The body, the cute face, even the weird hair works. I bet you could do it. I’ve met plenty of models that aren’t as good looking as you.   
  
“Seriously, Fuck off.” She rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen to get more coffee, and make herself some avocado toast.   
  
“You think I’m making fun of you?” He asked.    
  
“Nope. I know you were. Now just shut up about it.” She huffed.    
  
“I wasn’t, you know. You’ve got the look.” He shrugged.    
  
“I really don’t, I promise you.” She turned to face him, so he’d be able to see her expression and get the full weight of what she was about to say. “I don’t, and I hate people commenting on my looks. I hate it, a lot. If you do it again, I’ll trap you in a ring of salt and watch what happens when they pull you out of the coma. Got it?” She looked deadly, and stared him down until he shrugged and nodded reluctantly. 

 

He had the decency to remain quiet for about an hour while she worked.    
“Woman, can I ask why you hate talking about your looks without getting salty.”    
  
“I hate how I look. Simple enough. How’d you get into movies?” She saved her work and turned to face him. Vegeta sat up a little straighter, enjoying the attention. He didn’t even mind the completely random change of subject.   
  
“Well, it started after a director saw me jump off a two story building without breaking my legs. Said it looked cool, and next thing I know i’ve got an agent, and I’m doing stunts in movies, then I’m acting in them, than staring.” He shrugged. “It’s most likely because they don’t need a stunt man with me, which saves them money on editing and allows them to get some pretty cool full facial shots.” He looked out the window, eyes half drooped from boredom.    
  
She considered the modesty of it. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a asshole as she thought. He was just used to getting all the attention from everyone around him, and now he was being ignored by everyone, except her.    
  
“Think you’ll keep acting after this?”    
  
“Probably. I don’t know though. Maybe not. I don’t need to, God knows I’ve got enough money. Nappa might kill me though.”    
  
“Nappa?”    
  
“My agent. It’s his nickname, because he’s a real wine-o. He’s probably more worried about this than I am. Good, let him squirm.” He leaned back against the pillow. He seemed pleased at the attention Bulma had given him. Maybe he’d be okay to just sit quietly for a little while longer.    
  
She turned around and- nope. Apparently not.    
  
“So what DO you do?” He asked. “You said I wouldn’t believe you, but try me.”  He sat up and faced her.    
  
“I’m… a fiction writer.” She sighed.   
  
“You published?” He asked, brows rising.    
  
“Yeah.” She nodded and tried not to look as uncomfortable as she felt.    
  
“What’s your name, anyway? I don’t think I’ve asked.”   
  
“Bulma, and you haven’t. You’ve just been calling me woman.”    
  
“Is that your published name?”    
  
“No, I have a pen name I use, and I’m not telling you what it is, because I like not being famous. I like my privacy.” She turned away from him to look at her computer.    
  
“I thought, from the looks of this room you were some sort of science geek.”    
  
“Everyone has a hobby.”  

 

She sat there and wrote most of the day, happily tapping away at her laptop. Vegeta even managed to stay quiet until around 11pm, when he started nagging again.    
  
“So, I’ve been here all day, and you haven't eaten anything since like, when did you have that toast? Ten?” He leaned on the barrier and looked her over like he’d done earlier. This time, he looked a little annoyed.    
  
“Is it ten already?” She asked, looking at the clock and sighing. “Alright.” She ate her Thai leftovers cold and went back to writing. As far as she was concerned it was a good day because it was a day where in she didn’t have to leave her apartment. Any day when she didn’t have to get dressed was, by default the best day of the week. She had a meeting with her publisher tomorrow that she was dreading. She didn’t want to go with Vegeta behind her.    
  
She took a shower before bed, and this time didn’t bother asking Vegeta to leave, and just went to bed. As she lay there in the dark, she could see the faint outline of him against the window. “Would you be willing to let me run my errands tomorrow without you?” She said into the darkness.    
  
“Why? You finally do something interesting, and you want me to skip it?”    
  
“Yeah, basically. It’s private.” She waited in silence for his little annoyed sigh.    
  
“You’re just afraid I’ll out you when i’m back in my body. I’ll tell everyone that some author is a dorky little shut in.” He scoffed. 

 

She laughed, and then she sighed. 

 

“Yeah that’s it in a nutshell.”  

 

“I won’t tell anyone. Why would i? What would I gain from it?”    
  
She didn’t respond, and simply decided to reschedule the meeting until she was available to attend it without the grumpy, spoiled ass floating around behind her. 

 

The next morning, she emailed her publisher to let her know she’d become very ill and wouldn’t be able to attend a meeting today. She didn’t know how long he’d be here or how long she could push it off. She managed to convince her editor to email her all the notes on her latest novel.    
  
‘I know you hate leaving the house, but you really do need to get out, at least every other day. It’s not healthy. Why don’t you come meet me at the Starbucks near your house, we can talk there.’

 

She knew Vegeta wouldn’t be able to see the text on her screen from across the apartment from his spot on the bay-window, but she also knew he’d see and hear everything they said if she went to the coffee shop. She thought about telling her that she was sure someone had bugged her, but that would sound only a little less crazy than the truth.    
  
_ Thank you for your concern! I’m afraid I’m too sick at the moment. As soon as I’m feeling better I’d be happy to meet with you. Also, I do go out to places other than our meetings, you know.  _

 

She sent it off, feeling a little guilty for her tone.    
  
The rest of the day was spent working before going back to bed. Vegeta complained loudly about how boring she was. It got so annoying that she turned ended up throwing a handful of salt at him, so he’d be pushed from that spot for a moment. 

 

He slid back through the glass, looking annoyed.    
“What do you want me to do? I work from home! I should go out and just hang around at cafes? I’m not writing to look cool!”    
  
“You could go do something fun, you know.”    
  
“Like what?” She scoffed.    
  
“Go out, to a club or something. See a movie, I don’t know. Go to a bookstore, I’m sure you enjoy books.” He shrugged.    
  
“I have a kindle, and I don’t like clubs or bars. Loud music and dancing isn’t really my thing.” She got up and headed into the kitchen to make herself something to eat.  He just stared at her, quietly until she turned to face him full on.    
  
“Why don’t we go to the hospital and try and find your body? See how you’re doing?” She suggested.    
  
“How would you get in?” He asked, frowning.    
  
“You could fly around, check the rooms, and find yourself. You’re probably at Mercy hospital.”    
  
He gave her an odd look.    
  
“You’d do that?” He looked suspicious at her sudden change of heart.   
  
“Yeah, why not?” She shrugged. Maybe it would shut him up for a bit.    
  
And so, very early the following morning Bulma wrapped herself in sunglasses, scarf, and her hooded coat and left with Vegeta floating behind her. He got turned around in the elevator, finding it difficult to match it’s speed properly, so she ended up having to stand in the lobby and look at her phone while she waited for him to float up behind her.    
“Oh you waited, I guess you’re not a completely selfish bitch after all.” He said upon arrival. She rolled her eyes, and headed outside.    
  
Thick, fluffy snow covered every horizontal surface. Thick, fluffy puffs of white lazily drifted down to add to the deep blanket of cold. It was early enough, and the weather bad enough that the streets were nearly empty. This was a treat, she thought. She’d get to walk along the still-dark road and be alone.    
  
There was something intensely satisfying about making the first step in fresh snow.  There were dips in the blanket of white indicating footprints, but they had been snowed over again . Once she was on the sidewalk proper, she was no longer the first pair of foot prints she could see, but she didn’t care. It was eerily quiet out, like the world around her had been muffled.    
  
She decided after only a moment of being outside that she’d walk the whole three miles to the hospital. Even Vegeta seemed to enjoy the beauty of it, because he’d taken to drifting after her on his back, looking up at the falling flakes.    
  
“Must be nice.” She said out loud, since there was no one within sight, let alone earshot.    
  
“Mhm?”   
  
“To be able to fly through this snow without feeling cold or being restricted in any way.” She hummed happily as she imagined it. As happy as she was now, just walking through the quiet snow, she could only imagine how nice this was for Vegeta.    
  
“It’s not bad.” He grudgingly admitted. “I don’t think I like it as much as you do, though.”    
  
“That’s probably true.” She agreed, and they continued on. He looked at her curiously when she walked past the entry to the subway, but didn’t argue. It was such a quiet, pleasant walk that even he didn’t feel like disturbing the peace. 

  
Bulma even walked the long way, through the touristy part of town so she’d avoid the business area where people were more likely to be up and moving. 

 

She was actually a little sad to see the Hospital when it came into view.    
“Alright, why don’t you go look for yourself, and I’ll catch up and wait outside?” She suggested.  Vegeta gave a lazy shrug and rolled over so he looked more like he was standing than drifting.    
“Okay.” She thought she noticed some fear in his eyes before he flew off.    
  
This must have been frightening for him. She imagined how terrifying it would be to find your body in a terrible state. What if he was laying there with a crushed skull, and metal rods running through his bones? How badly was he hurt? Sure, she’d tried to reassure him, but what did the tabloids really know? Probably nothing, since there were more than a few privacy laws protecting people's medical history.    
  
She felt for him, and now wished she’d been a little nicer. Standing here in the pristine white of the snow blanketed world, her refusal to leave the apartment felt very silly, selfish even. Despite the beauty of the hospital covered in snow and the pleasantness of being alone like this, she found herself eagerly awaiting Vegeta so he could tell her where he was and if he was okay.     
  
She was downright jittery after 20 minutes of waiting. When she finally saw him fly out of a window on the 8th floor and drift down to her.    
“Are you alright?” She blurted before he’d even had a chance to land.    
“I don’t know, I look okay. Come on, I’m in room 834, south wing, intensive care floor eight.”    
She followed him up, and didn’t even pause to talk to the receptionists. She walked through this hospital easily. No one stopped her, but a few did smile as she passed. In most cases, they wouldn’t stop you from going to someone's room for a visit, assuming the patient had told you where they were and approved it.

 

She didn’t run into trouble until she got to his room. There was a large, bald man with a goatee standing in front of room 834. When she got close, he looked up from his phone at her.    
“Hi- Um, I’m a friend of-”   
“Nice try, sweetheart. How’d you find out what room he’s in? I knew it was only a matter of time before someone here leaked it to the press. You a reporter?” He had a raspy voice, and an arrogance about him that she didn’t like.   
  
“What? No I’m not a reporter- I’m just here to-”   
  
“Really? Than what’s with the get up? Why are you hiding your face?” He pocketed his phone and crossed his arms.    
  
“You do look sketchy in that get up.” Vegeta agreed. “Look, just take that stuff off, and tell him you’re a girlfriend. Tell him you met me last month at the Hot Spot, and that Raditz told you where I was.”     
  
That wouldn’t work, and Bulma knew it, but for lack of anything else to do, she took her hood, glasses and scarf off.    
“Sorry, it’s just really cold out there and I sort of forgot I was wearing it-” She deliberately ignored the look of disgust that crossed the bald mans face.  “I’m a- I met him last month at the Hot Spot, and Raditz told me he was here, so I just wanted to come and see if he was okay-” She looked down at her scarf as she neatly folded it over her arm while she said all this. The bald man actually had the gall to laugh at her.    
  
“Look, sweetheart I don’t know what you’re playing at here, but I know my boy. And I know his type. He only goes for smokin’ hot women.” This comment made Vegeta give him a baffled look. He looked between Bulma and him for a moment.    
  
“Nappa, what the hell? She’s exactly the type I’d go for. What the fuck? He must be hung over. When I wake up, I’m gonna have words with him. If a hot chick with blue hair shows up and wants to see me, you let her fucking see me.” Vegeta kicked at Nappa, his foot going through the bald head. Nappa shivered and looked around.    
  
“I didn’t say we were dating, did I? He’s a friend and-”   
  
“Yeah, okay look- when he’s up, I’ll have him send you an autograph, okay? Will that get you to leave?”    
  
“He’s my friend, okay? I just want to know if he’s okay- what happened to him and-”  She tried to peer over Nappa’s shoulder, but he was too all, and too broad for her to see Vegeta’s body behind him.    
  
“Look, lady, the tabloids already somehow got more info than they should have. You know he’s in a medically induced coma, and that he’ll be fine. That’s all you need to know.”    
  
“But- How would I know he was here if Raditz hadn’t told me?”    
“Look, knowing about Raditz is a little odd, but not impossible for some halfway decent reporter to find out.  So, look... I don’t know, a nurse leaked his location for some extra cash? Lady, scram. Okay? Before I call security.” He shooed her with a wave of his hand.    
  
She looked at Vegeta, and nodded. “Fine, but when he wakes up he’s going to be pissed when you tell him you sent me away. My name’s Bulma, by the way. So you’ll know it was me when he asks.” She flipped him off, which made Vegeta snort a short laugh, and left Nappa to stand there and shake his head doubtfully.    
  
Vegeta followed her until she was alone in an elevator. “Go hang out and see if you can find out anything about your condition, then you can come back over to my apartment if you want.” She looped her scarf back over her neck and pulled it up over her nose, and put her glasses back on.    
  
“Yeah, Okay. I’m bound to overhear something, right? Then I’ll let you know. Thanks Bulma.” He flew off through the wall, and left her alone. The walk back was nice, she enjoyed being actually alone for the first time in days, despite the ache in her chest at Nappa’s words.    
  
It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before, but it still stung to be reminded that she wasn’t good-looking. Every mirror she saw reminded her of it, and yet it still hurt when people told her flat out that she was ugly. She’d have hoped that, by now, she would have a thicker skin. She’d be able to let that sort of thing roll off of her. But it stuck. It always stuck. She’d never be hot, and she’d be alone because of it. Sure, she’d have friends but anyone who would date her would clearly be doing it out of pity.    
  
She paused to glance at herself in the shiny glass display of a bakery. All scarf, glasses and hood. Her face completely hidden. This was why she loved winter and fall. She could at least pretend she wasn’t deformed.    
  
Vegeta, meanwhile, looked down at his unconscious body. It felt very strange to see himself from this angle, especially with a feeding tube shoved down his throat and IVs in his arms. Aside from all that, he looked very normal. A bit gross, but normal. He didn’t understand why they’d put him in a coma to begin with.    
  
Nappa leaned on the doorframe and called Raditz. He asked about some ugly broad with blue hair, and Vegeta kicked his head again so he’d shiver.    
“Yeah she said you told her where the room was. Yeah, I didn’t think so. Oh well. It’s bound to happen. I didn’t think to bribe her to keep her mouth shut, but maybe I should have. Too late now.  We’ll move him again, for good measure. What? No, yeah, he’s fine. Ruptured appendix. They thought he’d have spinal injuries, so, given what happened last time he was here they knocked him out so he wouldn’t jar it, and make it worse. But they told me last night he’s fine. No spinal or brain damage. I guess they’re keeping him out until they can get the appendix out, apparently a ruptured one is pretty painful.  Honestly, I think they’re doing it just because he was such a jackass last time. Won’t hurt him. He’ll be pissed about missing out on the rest of the movie though. Yeah, they can’t wait for him to keep filming, so they’re writing his character out, saying he died or whatever. Yeah, I guess they’re waking him up after the surgery tomorrow. Sure you can come by. You know he fucking hates you. Nothing makes him happier than ripping you a new one. Alright. See ya.”    
  
Vegeta kicked Nappa again. He shivered and looked around.    
“Hey! Nurse!” He yelled down the hall at the nearest nurse’s station. “It’s freezing in here! How is my boy supposed to heal with frostbite?!”  Nappa grumbled a bit more, and Vegeta decided to just walk through him a few times, for good measure. Call him a jackass will you? He wished he could throw something at him, but he didn’t want to risk missing and hurting himself.    
  
He hung out for a while, hoping to get more information, but after a boring hour or two’s wait, he decided to go hang out with Bulma. She could at least see him. 

  
  


She was back at her apartment, like he’d expected. She was stretched out on the sofa, sleeping on her stomach with her arms folded under her head. She’d woken up after only a few hours of sleep to go to the hospital with him, so it was no wonder she was tired. Her tank top had ridden up her torso a bit while she napped so he could see the deep curve of the small of her back. She’d forgone her sweatpants for leggings. Vegeta looked at her, the incredibly hot blue haired girl with the nice ass and wondered what on earth Nappa had been thinking. Sure, Vegeta admitted he usually liked taller women, with long legs, but Bulma was every kind of hot.    
  


She was thin, and fit, and strong while being curvy and soft. He imagined that if she were his, and he’d come home to find her like this on his sofa, or his bed, he’d crawl up behind her, hands on her hips and kiss the small of her back before joining her. She’d roll over, and smile sleepily up at him, and peck him on the lips, and they’d dissolve into a restful nap together, or he’d fuck her than they would nap.    
  
The fantasy made him smile until the oddness of it sank in. He’d just had a fantasy about napping with her. That was a first for him. Usually his fantasies about women involved a lot more mouth to penis contact. Not soft kisses and naps. He sighed and looked out the window. This wasn’t like him.    
  
Maybe, it was because he was a ghost? He reasoned that it made sense he would crave things other than sex, since he didn’t have a body right now to be aroused. He wondered if this is what being a woman felt like. They tended to find people they liked attractive, not the other way around. Sure, they got horny but Vegeta had always thought they could just- choose to be attracted to someone they found charming or nice.    
  
He wasn’t horny, he decided. But he was attracted to her. He could see her on his arm at some movie premier. On the one hand, while she wasn’t as tall as he usually liked his women, she was shorter than him which would make him look taller and stronger by comparison, which he did like very much.    
  
There was a thud next door when the neighbor slammed their door shut, and Bulma stirred and looked around, her eyes falling on him.    
  
“So you’re okay?” She asked, voice thick with sleep.    
  
“Yeah apparently they’ll wake me up sometime tomorrow. They just knocked me out so they wouldn’t have to deal with me. I’ll have to sue when they wake me up and I get out of there.”    
  
She nodded and sat up to rub the sleep out of her eyes.    
“So you’ll be okay? That’s good.” She smiled sleepily and yawned.    
“You can go back to sleep if you like.” He said, even though he wanted her to stay awake.    
“No, I- It’s too late in the afternoon now. If I sleep longer I’ll screw up my already screwed schedule.” She shuffled over to the kitchen and got her coffee.    
  
Suddenly, knowing he was only here for another day or so, he wanted to spend more time with her.  He liked this feisty woman. “Hey, when I’m out of the hospital we should go out.”    
  
Bulma was so shocked by this that she choked on her gulp of coffee and had to cough it up over the sink.    
“Christ, woman you alright?” He asked, frowning at her.    
“You want to what?! Where did that come from?” She wiped her mouth off on her shirt and gave him a properly baffled look.    
“What? I think you’re funny, and hot. I’ve certainly fucked women waaay less hotter than you, and women I liked a lot less. I’m not saying we’d be perfect but it’s worth a try. I could show you how to have fun. You like the snow, right? Do you know how to ski? I could teach you.” He imagined her clinging desperately to him while the ski’s slide around under her, and he held her up with one strong arm, his hand on her waist while he explained how to not fall.    
  
“I don’t think so. ” Bulma said firmly, ripping him from his fantasy and glaring at him.”Why don’t you take some other, less hot woman skiing.”    
“We don’t have to ski.” He said quickly, trying to save face. “We could go to the British Library in London, it’s the biggest library in the world. You’d like that, right?” He shrugged.    
  
She stared at him for a long moment, looking very confused for someone who was supposed to be smart.    
“Did I stutter?” He asked after she’d stared too long.    
“No I just- That’s very thoughtful, but trust me. You won’t want to be near me when you’ve woken up, and come to your senses. I’m not really hot enough to be a movie star’s date anyway.” She crossed her arms in the way Vegeta had come to know as comfort mechanism.    
  
He felt a deep stab of annoyance at her answer. He wasn’t used to being turned down.   
“Are you seeing someone for this condition of yours?” He asked, genuinely wanting to know, but also bitter at her answer.    
  
“What? What condition?” Bulma hugged herself tighter.    
  
“This... I don’t know, what’s it called? Body dysmorphia?” He shrugged. “If not, you really should be. This is pretty messed up.”     
  
“What, so I turn you down therefore I must be crazy?” Bulma scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.    
  
“Yeah, basically. I just offered to take you on a vacation to Europe and you’re acting like i’m an asshole for it! That’s what makes you crazy!”    
  
“What? No- the offer was really sweet, but I just- Look- I’m not crazy. You just can’t see me. Not really. Spirits in your plane can only see other spirits. So when you look at me you’re not seeing what I really look like.” She looked heart broken at having to say this.    
  
“Wait what? Nappa looked the same to me.” He said with a shrug.    
“Well it’s not like you’re only seeing inner beauty or some nonsense. You’re just seeing the healthy, unblemished or uscarred version of us. The only way you could see a person’s body would be if they were dead, or in a mirror.” She turned away from him to pick up her cup of coffee.    
  
“So what, you’re deformed or something?” He asked, sitting up a little more.    
  
“Basically. Why do you think your agent reacted like that?” She asked.    
  
“Because he says that to any girl under 5’11. He likes tall, super thin women. Model types.” He leaned forward, and looked around her apartment for a shiny surface now, curious to see what deformity she was referring too.    
  
“Show me, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He asked.    
  
“No. I’m not- I like having one person in my life who doesn’t look at me in disgust, and if you saw once- no, just- I’m not a freak show, okay?” She crossed her apartment to shut her bathroom door, closing off the only room with a mirror.    
  
“So you’re telling me you won’t go out with me, because i wouldn’t like how you look, but you won’t show me what you look like and let me make that decision?” He snorted.    
  
“Maybe I don’t want to date you. Maybe I just don’t like you.” She said cooly. Vegeta laughed.    
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you like me. Why else would you have helped me?”    
  
“Because you’re a loud nag. Very hard to ignore.” She grinned sardonically, despite herself.    
  
“See? You like me.” He smirked.    
  
“Yeah, which is why I couldn’t handle the look of disgust on your face when you saw me.” She turned away from him and sat at her computer. 

  
The rest of the night went by quietly. She went to the bathroom, and Vegeta thought he’d heard her crying. He considered shoving his face through the wall to press against the salt barrier to see her reflection, but when he’d heard the soft, muffled crying, he left to sit back at his bay window seat.     
  
“You won’t even let us try?” Vegeta asked, one final time as she settled into bed at around 4 in the morning.    
  
“I’ve seen enough people give me the look. I don’t need to see you do it too.” She said firmly. “I just- I like you, and I want you to think of me as normal looking.” She rolled over so she was facing him.    
  
“Bulma, from what I can see you’re significantly hotter than “normal” looking.” He said, laying on the charm as thick as he could.    
  
“I know you’re trying to be nice, but now all I can think of is how good my life would be if I weren’t deformed. I’d be hot, right?” She winked at him, and he chuckled.    
  
“Smokin’.” He assured her.    
  
“Well, that’s nice. But I don’t need to be hot, after all I’m so charming and kind, right?” She teased. He didn’t laugh, like he knew she wanted him too.    
  
“Yeah.” He said, with a little more sincerity in his tone than he’d intended.    
  
She rolled over, and pulled the blanket up to her shoulder, unable to think of anything to say to that.    
“Night.”   
  
“Night.” He answered, and laid there to watch her breathing even out while she fell asleep. 


	3. Awoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta wakes up from his coma, and go looking for Bulma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to musicofthespheres for editing this chapter like a boss.

CHAPTER THREE

 

He had no warning it was going to happen. He was finding it nice to just sit there and watch her breathing. But at about ten in the morning, they woke him up. At first, he felt like he was falling asleep, but then he felt pain in his lower abdomen. Next thing he knew, he was laying in the hospital bed. His throat was sore, and his whole body felt achy and numb at the same time. He blinked up at Nappa and the nurses surrounding him. 

“Hey there, Vegeta. You’ve had a rough week. You were-”

“I know, Nappa. The wire snapped and I fell. You guys put me in a medically induced coma. I could hear everything. What’s the damage?” He croaked, throat raw from where the feeding tube had been. He turned to the first nurse he saw, leaving Nappa to look baffled and horrified. 

“Oh! Well, you’re badly bruised and you’ll need to do physical therapy for a while. And we had to take your appendix- it burst on the impact, but the padding they’d laid down prevented any broken bones...” She checked the chart to confirm that she had given him all the details.  
“How long until I’m out of here?” He asked and tried to sit up. He felt weak.   
“About three days, if you take it easy and let it heal. The surgery was yesterday.” She warned, and rushed forward to gently push him back down into the bed.   
“Fine.” He croaked, and then thought of what he’d heard Nappa say the day before, about how the staff here hated him for being such a jackass the last few times he was here. “Thanks.” He said to the nurse. “Can I have some water?” He asked, trying to keep his tone from being too rude. 

She handed him a large white styrofoam cup of water, and he emptied it in three big gulps. 

The following three days were boring and miserable. Vegeta found himself wishing he’d said goodbye to Bulma before he was awakened. He wanted to - he didn’t know. Convince her that he wasn’t so shallow as to be repelled by some deformity. Nappa of course had questions. 

“So what is it, like a fetish?” Nappa asked on the second boring day of laying around, Vegeta’s laptop his only entertainment.   
“What is?” Vegeta didn’t look up from the screen.   
“The chick with the fucked up face! I can see why you didn’t bring her around before, but damn.”   
“Really, Nappa? With your thing for amputees, you’re riding me for liking a girl with some mild-” Vegeta didn’t even know what to say. He didn’t know what was wrong with her face, but didn’t have to say because Nappa laughed at the world mild.   
“You’re one freaky son-of-a-bitch, man. But whatever floats your boat.”

Vegeta ignored Nappa for the rest of the day. All he wanted to do was get out of here and go find Bulma. His movie was a bust now; he was out of the script. And they doctors said he wouldn’t be able to do stunts again for at least six weeks while he healed, and maybe even longer before he did any major ones.

So when the time came for the nurses to have him stand and walk around, he nearly leapt out of bed, standing up, albeit unsteadily and walking across the room with no help whatsoever. The nurse walked beside him, waiting for him in case he fell or got light headed. 

His legs were stiff, and his lower stomach hurt with every step- but he was bursting with energy. He wanted to move and work through the pain like he had with every other problem he’d had in his life. The doctor seemed pleased with his progress, and the next day he was discharged. 

Vegeta felt better the moment he was out of that hospital. He went straight home and stripped on his way to the bathroom for a nice, long, shower. He put the water on as hot as it would go, and enjoyed the slight burning sensation prickling across his body. He did worry about the bandage on his side, covered in plastic and tape so he could have a shower. If it got wet, he’d just change it. He needed to feel clean again. To feel like himself. 

He considered going to see Bulma today, but he wanted to be stronger when he saw her again. So he waited a long, grueling month of extensive physical therapy and working out before going to see her. He focused on bulking up, eating a ton of protein everyday, and lifting weights until he felt like his arms would fall off. 

At some point, Vegeta realized that he was stalling. He was worried about what she’d think of him. He was worried about what she’d look like. If she was hideous, properly hideous, what would he do? Would he just have to shrug, apologize, and bail? He didn’t want that. He missed the sound of her keyboard as she worked, her soft breathing as she slept...

 

Vegeta longed to run his hands along the sharp curve of her hips and waist- but what if that curve wasn’t there? He thought about it, and what if she was just fat? What if all this was just because she was overweight? That would explain the working out and the not eating. He pictured her large, with soft curves, big breasts and wide hips with thick thighs- and he liked the mental image. He’d always liked big girls, he’d just never dated one while famous because he knew she’d get a lot of negative attention from the press. 

Then again, that was true for Bulma, regardless of what was wrong with her. So he got dressed in jeans, snow boots, and thick black coat with a scarf, hat, and sunglasses, so he’d be able to go unrecognized. 

Nappa had been going on and on about his plans for Vegeta’s comeback, and apparently had something planned for tonight, but Vegeta was going to blow it off. He took the subway to get to Bulma’s, because his CCXR Trevita would surely stand out. He got to her building and went straight up to her floor as if he belonged there. He was a little surprised by how easily he remembered where she lived. 

When he got to her door, he hesitated, closed fist raised to rap on the door. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t some coward. He was a warrior. A fighter. And this wasn’t going to stop him. 

 

He knocked thrice.

“Just a minute!!” He heard her yell from inside. He stepped to the side so she wouldn’t see him through the peep hole. “Who is it?” She asked, without opening the door. He thought about lying to her, but thought better of it. 

He stepped out in front of the door so she’d be able to see him, and took off his sunglasses and scarf. There a muffled gasp and a pause. 

“Well? Are you going to let me in?” He asked, smirking towards the little hole she was surely looking at him through. 

“...could you not?” She asked. 

 

They both chuckled. 

 

He waited. 

“I came to see you, you know. After you were woken up- but when i came to visit you were passed out. At least they let me in this time. I waited for about an hour, but- I thought it was for the best.” She said through the door. “It didn’t seem fair to you. I just wanted to say goodbye.” 

Vegeta thought about how he’d looked while laying in that bed and felt mortified that she’d seen him like that.   
“Are you going to let me in?” He stepped forward and leaned on the door so he could hear her better.   
“I haven’t decided yet.” She teased, or at least he hoped she was teasing.   
“What if I said please?”  
“Are you saying please?”   
“What if i did?”   
“Would you?” She chuckled from behind the door. He sighed.   
“Please?” 

There was a long quiet pause, while he listened to his heart beating in his throat, before he heard the lock click open. He stepped back and braced himself, preparing for her to look like a female version of Quasimodo. His heart hammered in his chest as the door cracked open, and he saw one eye peek out at him. One wide, lovely blue eye before it pushed all the way open.

And there she was. She looked as he’d remembered, except for the horrible burn scars covering the right side of her face, neck, shoulder, and her right arm. She was wearing a tank top and leggings. She was just as fit as he’d recalled, and she still had the nice curve to her hips, and her cute pixie cut with wide blue eyes, though the blue in her right eye was different than the blue in her left- it wasn’t as clear or as deep as the other. She still had her long neck, delicate jawline, and soft looking lips. It was just scars that looked like they crawled up her arm to her face and head. The burns also messed up her hairline a bit. 

 

It was just burn scars. She was still the same hot Bulma he’d seen when he was a disembodied spirit, but now she was just a hot Bulma with some lines on her face. He let go of the breath he’d been holding, his chest sagging in his relief, until he noticed her expression. She wasn’t looking at his face. She was looking firmly at his chest, biting her lip, and looking- frankly terrified. Her eyes were wet, and red. 

“You, are a dirty liar.” Vegeta said.


	4. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma tries to go back to her normal life after Vegeta wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thanks to musicofthespheres for editing this chapter. Without her encouragement, this fic might not exist. And thank's to everyone who left comments! Seeing that someone likes this fic really motivates me to keep writing! I love you guys!
> 
> From now on, I'm going include the warnings on a chapter-by-chapter basis. 
> 
> WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER: Contains brief Sexual Content.

CHAPTER FOUR

When Bulma woke up alone, she knew what had happened. She stared at the bay window where he’d sat and felt a hollowness in her chest. The space felt less alive without him. She didn’t know how she knew he’d woken up, but she could just sort of feel the lack of him in the air. She wished she’d said goodbye properly, but she didn’t. She’d just gone to bed. 

With a numb disbelief, she went to her computer and emailed her agent to arrange a meet up today. She barely noticed where she was as her feet carried her to the familiar office. She didn’t realize how out of it she was until she had to be mentally present to talk about the progress on the book.   
“So the main character is autistic, and the whole story is told through her point of view, but still- I find it very easy to read. I’m very fond of it. I like when she refers to a keyboard as a tappity tap. For the most part, she’s thought of really unique descriptions of things that still make it clear what the thing is. The only thing I don’t like is how she describes fire as swooshy hot. I think something else would be better.” The agent chatted merrily on, filling in the publisher, who’d not read it since its most recent edit.

“We’re still editing, but it’s charming- however, there is one thing- we should remove the scene where the gang leader tries to seduce her.” The dark haired woman tucked one of her strands of black hair behind her ear. “And then we can make it a YA novel-” 

“He doesn’t try to seduce her.” Bulma said, snapping out of her daze properly for the first time. “She’s autistic, he knows this, and he pinned her down- that’s rape, not seduction.” Bulma crossed her arms and looked angrily at the pen laying on the dark wood table top. 

“Okay, well we should remove that bit.” The publisher agreed. “YA books sell like hot cakes. We just need to simplify the writing a bit.” She flipped open the rough draft and looked it over. “Put it at a high school reading level, and-” 

“No, I don’t think so.” Finally, her agent was standing up for her. “She’s famous for writing intelligent sci-fi, I think it would be a mistake to change that now. I think her readers would be okay with a psychological adventure, so long as it was intelligent. They’ve come to expect it from her. A dumb, easy-to-read YA novel would be...” She trailed off and fidgeted with a strand of long black hair. 

“Stupid?” Bulma offered. 

“Disastrous to sales.” Her agent said professionally. 

“I’ve been playing with a ghost story… it would be easy to make a YA without losing any major plot points, when I’m done we could publish it under a new pen name. One for the silly, light hearted stuff. I like fun easy reads.” Bulma admitted. 

“I don’t know, Bulma. Another pen name? You’ve got a ton... Can’t we use… John Burns for that?” The agent asked.   
“John wrote that silly romance novel, but it was explicit. We can’t have him going from explicit adult content to a YA novel. It’s a PR nightmare. What about Marcus?” Her editor said .  
“I dunno, where does silly YA fit in with horror novels? Do you think it’s a bit of a leap?” Her agent leaned on the table and looked down.   
“We can look into making a new pen name for her if the book is something we want to publish. In the meantime we need to focus. We leave the rape bit in, because I feel that it directly influence her decisions and actions for the rest of the novel, and we leave it as is, with Daniel Johnson as the pen. This fits with the sci-fi’s well enough that the reader won’t think it’s a huge leap,” the publisher said, ending the conversation. She looked down at her laptop and made a few notes.

From then on out, it was all talk of deadlines. When it was finally over, Bulma was happy to leave with her agent. The only person she felt like was really standing up for her, and her stories. “Thanks Chi-Chi. I hate those things.” She looked at her friend and agent as the two headed for a cafe. Bulma needed a coffee to help with this headache. 

“You seem really down today. Bad mental health day?” Chi-Chi asked, wisely. Bulma had those days where she couldn’t focus to save her life, and empty sadness filled her. Even when she hadn’t lost a friend. But that thought was oddly cheering. She had a legitimate reason to be sad now. This wasn’t the depression, it was a normal response to losing someone she was fond of. 

 

That feeling made the hole in her chest shrink a little, and she was able to smile at Chi-chi. At least she wasn’t crazy.   
“Thanks, I’m just- a pen pal stopped responding to my emails so I’m sort of down. I’ll be okay though.” 

 

The following day, Bulma laid in bed for almost an hour after she woke up just staring at the ceiling. Her body ached and felt stiff and heavy. She didn’t want to move and no single thought lingered long enough to motivate her to do so. 

 

She could get up and go see Vegeta, but then he’d see her face and know for sure she was telling the truth and be done with her. She imagined a world where he didn’t shun her. Where he saw her, shrugged and said “That’s not so bad.” And they could date, and they could try to be together.

 

She wondered what it was like to be touched by someone who wanted you, and had no ill will towards you. She rolled over and hugged her body pillow and imagined it was him, and that his thick arms were around her. His strong, masculine hands running up and down her sides while she rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her temple. It felt nice, and for a while she was able to enjoy the fantasy of it. 

 

During her day, she found the fantasy kept poking up at random times, and since she worked from home nothing stopped her from leaning back her chair, and letting her mind wander more. She imagined he was there. He’d complain about being bored while she worked, she’d tell him off gently, and he’d come up behind her and rub her shoulders for a moment, and kiss her cheek, than her neck- his hands would slide down from her shoulders to her chest and- next thing she knew, she was laying in bed, pleasuring herself. She was imagining his hand was there instead of hers. What it would feel like to have him move gently inside her and hold her close while he rubbed her clit and squeezed her breasts. He moaned and thrusted- her clouded mind paying no attention to the apparently three or four armed Vegeta her imagination was presenting her. 

 

When she was done, she fell asleep, hugging her pillow. The hole in her chest didn’t shrink, but it felt warmer, now. More like a fireplace, with a heat inside it, rather than a chilled empty stone cave.

The following day, she decided to go see Vegeta. The fantasy had stayed with her all night, and she’d enjoyed it so much- she was actually in a good mood when she woke up. But she knew she couldn’t keep this fantasy, with the threat of the real Vegeta coming over and being disgusted looming over her. 

So she went to the hospital, where he couldn’t run away, because he was stuck in a bed, and where she _could_. She worried about someone stopping her again, but when she got there and saw the bald man, Nappa- he just shrugged at her and nodded towards the room. 

“He’s out again, sleeps all the time I swear.” He chuckled. “He thinks because he’s in the hospital he can slack off.”

“Well,” Bulma shrugged and looked up at the bald man. “Sleep is hard to come by in a hospital. They’re always waking you up all the time, all day, and all night to run tests and things. You sleep when you can, so I don’t blame him.” 

For a moment, Nappa looked like he was going to ask her how she knew so much about what it was like to sleep in a hospital, but when he looked at her grotesque, half melted face, he knew. 

She sat there waiting for Vegeta to wake up for about an hour, but then more of his people came. There were agent's, other actors, and other people she didn’t recognize- so she left out of fear of one of them seeing her and having a camera on them. 

She snuck out of the hospital room, but Nappa saw her and came over.   
“Look, I know I was kind of an asshole last time you were here, but let me just warn you- if the press sees you with him, they will not be nice. Part of his charm is how single he seems to be. Lets the ladies pretend they’re with him. A public girlfriend, even a stupidly hot one like a Victoria's Secret model would be hated by his fans. I can’t imagine they’d be at all nice to you. If you don’t care, that’s fine- but just know what you’re getting into before you get closer to him, and get badly hurt in front of millions of people.” 

She just stared at him for a moment, and said nothing. She knew he was right, but she didn’t like him so she didn’t admit that. Instead, she flipped him off and went home. 

 

During the following weeks Bulma realized Vegeta wasn’t coming. And that didn’t bother her. She was content to enjoy her fantasy, where he never showed disgust at her, and where he was snarking but always perfectly romantic, and he always reminded her to eat and sometimes, just at the right time pulled her from work for snuggles and sex. 

She was very much enjoying the fantasy version of him. She knew it couldn't last forever, but she wasn't prepared for it to end so soon. One day, the real deal himself came knocking, and she was not at all prepared.

Bulma felt her stomach drop at the sight of Vegeta just outside her apartment. She pulled away from the peephole and leaned on the door. Her heart raced in her chest. He’d come. He’d come even though she didn’t want him to. Even though she’d warned him. Surely his agent from the hospital had told him what she looked like. Or had he pretended he’d already seen to keep up the story she’d told Nappa when she first tried to visit? The hole in her chest grew. 

Why couldn’t he leave her be? Now, she’d have to open the door and face his look of disgust. He would shudder at her and curl his lip, like she’d seen so many people do so many times before. She imagined him stepping away from her in his disgust. He would be angry at her for lying to him, for leading him on. This fantasy she had no control over. She couldn’t stop the sob that clawed it’s way out of her throat. She muffled it in her hands, and tried not to think too much on how badly she wanted him just to go. 

But that wasn’t true. She wanted to open the door and have him tell her she was beautiful, and that he still wanted to be with her. But that’s not what would happen, and even if it did, she’d never believe him. She’d never trust that he actually felt that way. No one would ever want her, and she couldn’t even blame them for it. How could she? She was grotesque, and she knew it. The only people who could look at her without gagging were the doctors who’d treated her after the fire when she was a child. But they were highly trained and used to seeing wounds like hers. 

 

She had enjoyed the fantasy of him these last few weeks. The nice one. She’d enjoyed imagining his casual announcement that she was hot, and honestly believing it. She’d had fun thinking about what it would be like to be normal-looking, and to be with him. But it was impossible, and now that she was about to see his disgusted face- the way he’d gag and recoil from her, that fantasy would fall apart, and she’d never be able to enjoy it again. 

“Well? Are you going to let me in?” His muffled voice asked through the door. She could almost hear the smirk in it. 

“...could you not?” She asked, her voice nearly cracking as the sob turned into a pathetic chuckle, that he reciprocated.

She told him about how she’d tried to visit him. She took a deep breath and waited for him to say something. 

“Are you going to let me in?” he repeated. His voice sounded much closer now, like he was leaning on the door, his mouth by the gap between it and the frame.  
“I haven’t decided yet.” She admitted, and turned to put her hand on the knob. She could only put this off so long.   
“What if I said please?”   
“Are you saying please?”   
“What if i did?”   
“Would you?” She laughed, despite herself.   
“Please?” 

 

And now she couldn’t say no. 

 

She braced herself for his reaction, and opened the door.   
….  
….  
….  
….  
….  
….

He looked her up and down once, and scoffed

 

“You, are a dirty liar.” he said.

 

Her jaw dropped, and she was about to yell at him, and tell him that she’d warned him when-

“You told me you were deformed, and so I’ve been spending the last few weeks trying to prepare myself for something horrible, and this is it? You’ve got some scars? Shit, I’ve got scars.” He lifted his shirt to show her scars all across his impressively muscled chest. But they were all fairly clean, little raised white lines. Not like her half melted face. 

 

“Stop it. Pretending it’s not bad doesn’t help. You don’t have to pity me, but thanks for not gagging, I guess. I suppose the glass eye helps- I used to just have this... Horrible looking milky white eye, but I got this glass one so-”

“Bulma, in the whole short time you’ve known me, do you honestly think I would lie to you to spare your feelings?” He snorted at the idea. She looked up at him, hopefully. Maybe this could work, she thought. Maybe she could believe that he of all people he wouldn’t lie to her out of some misplaced sense of kindness. 

“So, get dressed. Let’s go get dinner.” He nodded behind him towards the outside. She blinked at him in surprise for a moment, and then a stab of fear hit her. 

“What? In public? Do you- do you really want people to see me with you?” Now it was all she could do not to worry that someone had followed him here. What if she was seen with him? Could she really handle the inevitable magazine cover that read “Vegeta dates deformed charity case! What a good person!” 

He eyed her for a few moments, before nodding. “Alright, you don’t want to end up in some tabloid, I can’t blame you. Why don’t we eat in then? My place? Here? It’s up to you.” He leaned on the door frame and looked her over. He had that same look in his eyes as before, the completely foregin look that made her skin tingle.  
“Vegeta…” She stepped aside and gestured him into her apartment. “This- I don’t think this could work. No matter how careful we are, do you really think you could keep us a secret forever? You’ve got reporters following you around, and an agent, and you’re always traveling for movies and stuff, right?” She crossed her arms and went into the kitchen to pace. 

“Sure. And?” 

“And- what? We date once a month? Hidden away? What kind of relationship is that?” 

“Oh, we’d go out more than once a month. I don’t really care what people say.” He sat down on the left bay window, where he’d spent so much time as a spirit. That spot felt like it was his.

“You’re missing the point- coffee?” She offered. 

“Sure.” He nodded. 

“I don’t want to have a public image, it’s why I work so hard to keep my identity hidden from my readers. I have a pen name, and, hell, the publishing company even hired someone to pretend to be me for interviews and stuff…” 

“Why do you care what they’ll say?” He acted like the cruel comments they would surely throw at her were nothing. He didn’t seem to realize how harmful they would be to her. 

“Because they’ll say horrible things about me and great things about you. People will go on and on about how kind and not vain you are, all because you’d have to be a saint to date this.” She gestured angrily towards her own face. “I hate this. I hate looking like this. I wish I could just look normal, and be normal and to have someone-” 

 

She caught herself and turned her back to him, cheeks red. She’d said too much, and it couldn’t be taken back now. 

“To have someone, what?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious. 

“Not be grossed out by me.” She lied. 

“I’m not grossed out by you. So you’ve got scars? So what. You’re clean, and fit, and cute, and curvy.” He said, as if it were simple. But he didn’t say pretty. He didn’t say pretty. Maybe he wasn’t lying? She turned to face him, clever eyes searching him. Maybe, if he was going to be honest with her, it was worth a shot? Maybe he was worth it.

“Ok. So... what would we even do for our first date than? What could we do that would be private, aside from staying in?” She asked, frowning curiously. 

“We could go camping in the woods. I own a cabin out in Minnesota by a lake. It’s snowy there, you like the snow, right?” He thought about how much she’d enjoyed the walk. “It’s nice and quiet out there, you could write, and ski.” He shrugged. 

“Do you really think a vacation away from home is the best option for a first date?” She worried her lower lip.

“Well, in our case, yes. You don’t want to be seen in public with me, so…” He trailed off. “I’m not saying we’d have to share a bed, there are multiple rooms, so you’d have plenty of alone time.” He looked at her, glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

She wanted to go, despite it being against her better judgement. “Okay, but I don’t know how to ski. Is this on a mountain?” 

“Yeah, but the slopes in the area aren’t very steep, and I can teach you.” He thought about standing behind her, hands on her waist while she steadied herself on the skies, and grinned at the thought. He was pulled out of his thoughts when she asked if he was okay. “What? Yeah, I’m good. So do you want me to teach you to ski?” He asked. 

“Oh um- I don’t have skis.” 

“I have a pair you can borrow, I think. How tall are you?” He suggested.

“5’1.” 

“Hm, mine might be too tall. What about ice skating? There’s a lake right outside the backdoor, that freezes solid. I can even smooth it out a little.” He shrugged. 

“I don’t know how to ice skate either, but I think it would be fun to learn. And I have a feeling I’ll be able to enjoy skating more.”

“So when do you want to go? How about next week? We could leave Monday, and come back in a week or so?” He pulled out his phone to check plane times. 

This was happening very quickly. If she were honest with herself, she was terrified of being alone with him for a week, but maybe it would be good for them. She’d get to see what he was really like, and he’d get to decide if her face bothered him or not. 

“Oh! Sure, I guess I don’t have any meetings planned- we wouldn’t be able to travel there together but… we could meet at the cabin?” She suggested. “It’s secluded right?” 

“The nearest house is more than two miles away.” He nodded. “Taxis don’t go there, so I’ll just have a driver pick you up.” He said as if that were nothing. 

“Is… do you have the cabin staffed?” 

“I have a maid come and clean it once a week while I’m not there.” He looked up at her with a brow raised. “Why?”

“I just, sort of realized I’m agreeing to go out to a secluded cabin in the middle of the woods during winter with a man I barely know.” She laughed nervously.

“I’ll send you the address and you can let your friends and family know where you are. If people know you’re there, it’ll be _way_ harder to get away with murdering you.” He joked, and she relaxed a little. It was true that if people knew where she was, he wouldn’t be so likely to do something awful. 

But then, there were more than a few cases on the news lately about rich, powerful men being accused of all sorts of horrible things, and everyone around them dismissing the accusations as if it were impossible for someone famous to be awful. If he did attack her, who would believe her? What would she tell the police? That famous movie star Vegeta attacked _her_ of all people? When he could have anyone he wanted? 

But when she looked up at him, and his hopeful smile, she wasn’t afraid of him. She was excited. Nervous, sure. But excited more than anything. “Alright, let’s do it.”


End file.
